Silence
by LukoTaika
Summary: "People will tell you that silence is golden. Don't listen to them. It's not golden. It's not a treasure. It's a noose that hangs you too close to the ground, strangling and killing much slower than it should." When Michelangelo gets sick, each member of the Hamato family finds their own unique truths about the silence.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everybody! Thank you so much to everyone who read _Texts From Home._ You guys are awesome!**

**This is a story that I thought of while visiting my aunt in the hospital. I hope someone enjoys. Please READ and REVIEW.**

**Disclaimer: The turtles are not mine.**

* * *

It's quiet. It's so quiet. Michelangelo stirs and painfully turns onto his side, wincing at the sharp stab of pain that cuts through his abdomen. The pain is going down with every passing day, he realizes, but with every bit of it that goes away, he's finding it harder and harder to breathe.

Donatello's sitting by the bed, his head lolling to the side in a sight slumber. Even in sleep, he looks so tired, so weighed down by everything that's happening. Apart from his and Mikey's breathing, there's no sound, no indication of life.

It's so quiet.

Mikey wants to say something, tell Donny anything; he's not quite sure what yet, but he really wants to. But this is the first time he's seen his brother at least somewhat relaxed in what seems like ages, so he settles with watching him, memorizing the almost peaceful features of his tired face. Lying there, watching him, he goes over what he might say when Don wakes up.

_'Morning Donny! You should really sleep lying down. It's not good for your neck when you sleep sitting up like that._

He sighs and closes his eyes, trying to find the peace and rest that comes with dreams. But tonight – or this morning, he thinks – there is no rest for him. No dreams take his mind from the pain that seems to constantly flow through him, and there is definitely no peace.

Quiet, yes; but no peace.

He misses when things around the lair were loud. He'd find more rest and comfort amidst all the chaos than he does here in his bed; this strangling silence.

He gasps when another shock of pain shoots through him, causing his body to jolt and shudder with the effort of trying to deep quiet. He doesn't want to wake up Donny.

He wants to talk, though; wants to tell Don to go to sleep the right way, but he knows his brother won't go to sleep again as long as he knows that Mikey is awake, so he keeps his thoughts and comments to himself and tries to stay as quiet as possible. It's proving to be slightly difficult, but he'll manage. It's the first time he's seen his brother actually resting in so long, disturbing the moment seems cruel.

Even if he does hate the silence.

"How you feeling?"

He turns his head slightly to the sound of the voice, but it's coming from behind him and he feels just a little bit too weak to roll over completely. He doesn't have to see the speaker to know it's Leonardo.

"I'm fine." He tries to sound strong, but the words come out rough, almost like the croak of a frog. That, and the fact that he's lying are enough to make his older brother give a humorless snort.

"Oh yeah. And Raph's favorite color is pink."

"You never know, Leo. It could be, but he's just keeping it a secret."

That humorless snort again. "Just like how you're actually ok. You're just acting sick, shivering and shaking from imaginary pain. Is that it?"

He forces himself to laugh. "That's it, bro. You got me there." He wants Leo to keep talking. Even with the heavy sarcasm, his words are so much better – a lullaby, almost – compared to the strangling silence of almost a minute ago. Mikey would much rather fall asleep to this.

"G'morning, Mikey." Donny's voice interrupts the somewhat conversation, causing both brothers to look in his direction. He's stretching, popping the joints in his neck and shoulders. When he's done he looks back at his orange-clad brother. "How're you feeling?"

Mikey attempts a shrug but immediately decides that it's too hard to do so while lying down. "I'm feeling ok." He grins. "I'm hungry." Donny laughs, but before he can say anything Raphael speaks up.

"You go get his food, Don; stretch your legs. I'll watch Mikey." Donny smiles gratefully and nods before standing stiffly and walking out of the room towards the kitchen. Leo moves forward and sits in the chair by the bed that his purple-banded brother just left behind. Silence takes its place once again in the room, its presence heavy and stifling. Mikey wants to say something, anything to get rid of it; his unwanted, dark and heavy guest that's been his companion for the past week and a half. He searches for the right words, arranges them carefully in his mind, makes sure they make sense and lighten the mood. He's not usually one to be thinking so carefully about what he says, but lately he's found that even the simplest things take most of his energy away in a short amount of time, so now he chooses his words and actions carefully; turning them over in his mind and experimenting before he lets them out into the world.

Leo beats him to it though.

"So really Mikey, how are you feeling?" The words almost make the younger turtle jump out of his shell, it's that quiet. He looks at his brother for the first time since he's sat down. He looks tired, too; almost as bad as Donny. Mikey feels a shadow of guilt for being the reason behind all of his brothers' worry and exhaustion, but he knows that if it was one of them that was sick, he'd be doing as much as he could to help, too. The thought gives him some comfort.

"The pain's going down," he finally says. He doesn't mention the part about not being able to breathe. '_I'll tell them later._'

For now though, Leo's looking at him carefully, obviously questioning whether or not his little brother's words are worthy of belief. "It really is!" Mikey says, louder than before. He almost believes that the less quiet it is, the better he'll get. It's a strange thought, he knows; but it's a ray of hope that he's willing to hold on to in his bedridden state. That, and his brothers seem to believe him more when they know he's still able to yell.

So he talks.

"You know, last night I was lying here thinking about some stuff when I realized, '_Whoa! I missed over a week of training!_' and then I was like '_Leo's gonna kill me._' Then I realized that if anyone was going to kill me it'd actually be _Donny_ because he's the one I always spar against, so he'll kick my shell and I'll just end up in bed all over again!

"You know what, Leo? This whole week I've been in bed – Hey Don! – I've been in bed and I haven't had a single pizza. Dude, that's got to be a record! Not that my record was very long before, but… Yeah.

"Aw, Don; more soup? If I eat any more I might just turn into it!" Mikey makes a face and stares at the bowl that's placed in front of him before looking up imploringly at his purple-banded brother.

Leo laughs softly. "Aw come on Mikey. That smells really good. It won't hurt anybody if you have just a little more."

Don adds, "Yeah, Mike. You'll be getting better in no time. Besides, my cooking isn't that bad."

"No bro, that's not what I meant! It's just that –"

"You don't like the food I make for you." Now Donny's smirking, his eyes brightening momentarily at the joking mood that has come over the room.

"No! That's not… Aw come on, Don! You know that's not what I was trying to say!" Now both Donny and Leo are laughing, Mikey trying to hide his own small smile. "Fine, I'll eat it!"

His brothers laugh harder when he sighs and slowly slurps a spoonful into his mouth. "This is really good. Hey, Donny, what's this black stuff in it? Never mind, I don't want to know."

Leo and Don say nothing. They just watch as Mike gobbles his food and talks between mouthfuls. Finally, Leo cuts him off with a smirk. "You really must be feeling better. I haven't heard you talk this much all week."

Before the orange-banded turtle can respond, Don smiles and adds, "It's true. By the way, Mikey, that black stuff is –"

"Don't say it, Donny! I'm _begging_ you not to say it. Last time I asked you what was in my food, you said the long noodle stuff was possum tail." Michelangelo makes a disgusted face at the memory.

Don's laugh echo's through the room now. "Aw, Mike," He stops laughing long enough to grin. "Possum tail will help you get better."

"Then I'd rather be sick!" Now Leo's laughter join's Donatello's, both brothers laughing until they're gasping for breath. Mikey was grateful for their being distracted. The talking and eating had taken most of his energy and he felt like he couldn't breathe, like he was under water. He forces himself to take deep breaths, trying to look normal so his brothers won't notice.

Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale… in – _Shell, his lungs are_ _burning!_

By the time he catches his breath, his brothers are conversing easily amongst themselves. From listening to them he learns that Raph is in the garage with Casey and working on then shell cycle (_They swear that there cannot possibly be anything else to work on after all the work that's already been done on it_) and Master Splinter is in the kitchen making his morning tea. Here, in this peaceful (_albeit loud_) conversation, Mikey feels that he can actually fall asleep. His energy is gone, every breath still burns his lungs, and now he's got a headache; but he feels good. The loud laughter and voices fill his mind, taking over his senses like a calming lullaby.

The darkness is calling to him. It sounds inviting.

The sounds of the world are fading away, the darkness closing around his brothers' voices and gently floating them away from Michelangelo. He doesn't mind, though, because even though he can't hear them, he only needs to know one thing.

Here, in his room, there is no more silence.

* * *

_END OF CHAPTER ONE_


	2. 2 minutes, 11 seconds

**Hello My Lovely Readers! Sorry for the long wait. My computer went bye-bye literally the day after I posted Chapter 1. Thank you very much to everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story already!**

**Note****: All of my TMNT fics are posted with the characters/relationships from the 2k3 verse because I don't particularly like the 2k12 version. Sorry to all of those that like this new version, but it's just not for me.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own them. Isn't that a shame?**

* * *

Donatello sighs and runs a hand tiredly over his eyes. This is pointless, he knows. It's pointless being up at this _ungodly_ hour researching and doing tests on what's wrong with Michelangelo. It's completely and utterly pointless. Not because he won't find anything; No! It's because he already _knows_.

Unbelievable.

Stupid.

Not smart.

It's asking for disaster.

It's -

Oh shell, he _really_ just needs a decent night's sleep. He hasn't had one in ages. He groans and spins around in his squeaky office chair, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. Every time he does this, it gets harder and harder for him to force them back open. Leonardo was right. Maybe he should just take a breather; a nice, calming nap.

_And let Mikey down._

At this, Don's eyes open and his head snaps back upright. No. That won't happen. Mikey will be fine. Mikey _is_ fine. He's sleeping in his room with Raphael keeping an eye on him; he's been sleeping since...

Donny can't bring himself to actually think the words, seeing as the images that flash through his memory are all he really needs to bring up the most painful 2 minutes and 11 seconds of his life. He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths. _Just breathe, Donatello. Everything will be fine. Everything will be..._

* * *

_"Donny, do something!"_

_Raphael's voice is hoarse, panic stricken as he shakily but firmly holds Michelangelo up and pats his shell as the orange-clad turtle tries desperately to breathe through the most violent coughing fit that he's had yet. Leonardo is crouched by his brother's bed, gently rubbing the youngest turtle's plastron with one hand while firmly gripping his hand with the other. The eldest turtle says nothing, but his tense shoulders and shaking hands speak volumes about the panic that he is trying so hard to suppress.  
_

_"Donatello! Tell us what to do!" Leo's voice is strong, commanding; showing no trace of the inner fear and desperation that his body so heavily gives away. Don moves to the side of the bed opposite his eldest brother and tries desperately to force his mind to calm down and _think_._

_He's coughing, but not breathing. His eyes are wide open and he's trying to say something or - "Don't talk, Mikey! Just focus on your breathing!" He's convulsing, much harder than usual. Why is he -? "Raph, don't hit his shell so hard! You could make it worse!" He keeps thrashing; getting more and more desperate from - "Leo, keep holding his hand! Hive him something stable to focus on!" Oh shell, Mikey's really starting to panic. If his mind gets too clouded and unfocused with fear, he could -"Master Splinter! Raph, where's Master-"_

_"I am here, my son." Don's head whips around to meet his sensei's calm, determined eyes. "What do you need me to do, Donatello?" His firm yet gentle voice brings a sort of light and calm into the young turtle's head, helping him to think just a little bit more clearly as he blinks gratefully at his father._

_"Try your best to reach his mind, Sensei. Get him to calm down a little. If he continues to panic like this, he could faint and then it'll be even harder to help him." The old rat says nothing; just nods his head and turns to settle into one of the darker corners of the room, carefully moving aside the clutter of comic books, sketch pads, and coloring pencils. Don has to resist the sudden need to ask him how he can remain so composed at a time like this._

_"Donatello!"_

_"Donny!"_

_Both of his older brothers' voices immediately bring his attention back to the bed where all the world seems to be ending (He knows that this isn't true, but still; HIS world might possibly be ending, and that definitely counts for something) and he suddenly finds himself forcing down the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and cry out like a young child. Michelangelo has finally stopped coughing. __He's throwing up, instead._

_Don swallows heavily, forcing down all of today's food (The tiny bit that he's eaten suddenly feels like a boulder in his throat) when he notices that there's some _red_ flowing in Mikey's vomit. Oh shell, now there's blood. What's he supposed to do when there's blood? Kami, he can't do this! He can't -_

_"DON!"_

_Raph's voice shakes him out of his frozen state of fear and he quickly leaps to his feet and sprints out of the room, ignoring his brothers' cries that follow him out. The time it takes to get to the kitchen feels like an eternity, and when his large, suddenly clumsy hands make a mess of the counters and drawers from trying to find a large bowl and towel, he silently curses at himself and whole family for not doing being willing to do the laundry._

_He's never been so relieved to see a clean towel before._

_It takes another eternity for him to make it back to Mikey's room, but apparently the two eternities weren't enough to stop the vomit from spewing out of his brother's mouth. No matter; that's what the bowl is for. Don quickly places the bowl under his brother's still-spewing mouth and carefully removes his now ruined blanket, forcefully handing the towel to Raph. His hotheaded brother instantly knows what to do and begins to slowly, carefully wipe the remaining vomit off of Michelangelo's face and body._

_The liquid red that is laced into the vomit seems to stand out, the way neon green would in a see of black. It's all Donatello can do to swallow back the boulder that has formed in his throat again, and he somewhat comforts himself with the fact that Mikey has finally stopped spewing and is now lying back in his bed, shaking and whimpering, utterly exhausted. Master Splinter is still sitting in the corner, his eyes closed and face relaxed in deep meditative concentration. Whatever he's doing, it's obviously working because after a few seconds the youngest turtle visibly relaxes and sends a quick, grateful look to his sensei in the corner._

_"Donny." Don turns his head slowly to look at Leo, who then pointedly looks down at his wrist as if checking for time. Immediately, Donatello brings out his own timer that he keeps in his belt and carefully counts the seconds. 2 minutes and 11 seconds. He looks down at his baby brother, who has quietly faded into a fitful sleep, before looking back up at his two older brothers and silently gesturing for them to meet outside._

_After Raph softly closes the bedroom door behind him, the three turtles stand in the hall, saying nothing, before Leo finally gestures back towards the main living room. When they get a reasonable distance from Mikey's door, it's Donny who breaks the silence._

_"2 minutes and 11 seconds," he practically whispers the sentence, hating time more than he's ever hated it before. Neither of his brothers respond until they finally get to the main living room and Raph automatically turns on the T.V. They've been doing that ever since Mikey got sick, although they almost never actually watch. It's just a way to fill the horrible, gaping silence that seems to suffocate them._

_Almost the way the Mikey himself is suffocating._

_Don forces the thought away._

_"It's too long." Raph's voice is gruff, hoarse from his earlier panic and desperation. "I never thought 2 minutes could ever be so long, but..." He trails off, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.  
_

_"I know what you mean," Leo says. His voice lacks its usual commanding strength and sounds tired, worn and drained of life. 2 minutes and 11 seconds are apparently capable of being all of eternity and then some. "It's the longest one yet. Every time it just gets worse and worse." __Donny knew what Leo said was true long before he even said it, but hearing him say it out loud is like being hit by a bag full of sewer pipes._

_"You're right," He says with the same almost-whisper as before. "And it will continue to get worse if we don't do something soon." He doesn't have to look at Raph to know that his whole body has just gone tense from this news. There probably isn't much else he _can_ do anymore, considering how worn out he looks. Donny realizes that he probably looks no different._

_"Then let's do somethin' about it!" Don winces at the sudden volume of Raph's statement. It's seems much louder than it actually is, here in the silence of the suddenly huge lair. Even with the T.V. on, it's too quiet.  
_

_"We can't do anything until we know what we're trying to do something about, Raph." Leo's trying to keep his voice in check, trying to keep the exhaustion at bay, but Donny can hear it clear as day and it only fuels his own exhaustion to the point where it nearly seems unbearable._

_"Then let's find the problem!"_

_Donatello decides to step in now. "Raph, you and I both know that it's not that easy."_

_"And you think that waiting is?!"_

_"Obviously not but I still have to run a few more tests..."_

_"You've had _weeks_ to run your stupid tests!"_

_"Well I'm SORRY that I don't want to diagnose him with the wrong illness and give him the wrong medication and KILL HIM anyways!"_

_"Well I'm SORRY that I'm not a BRAINIAC and I can't help you with your frickin' DIAGNOSIS!"_

_"Well I'm SORRY that I can't TURN MIKEY HUMAN and take him to the HOSPITAL!"_

_"Well -"_

_"ENOUGH!" __Leonardo's commanding voice is back, laced dangerously with anger and irritation. Immediately, Donatello and Raphael go quiet and once again, the lair is plunged into silence. It takes another minute before Leo composes himself enough to speak. "Arguing will get us nowhere. Donny, I want you to take a nap before you do anymore research. Raph and I will keep watch over Mikey while you do what you need. Raph, you take first watch. One hour watch time for each of us. We'll keep switching until Donny's ready. Don, we'll tell you if anything goes wrong with Mikey. Good?"_

_Both Donny and Raph nod their heads. There's no arguing when Leo's using that tone._

_"What will you have me do?" Master Splinter is standing just a few feet away from the three turtles, his eyes still as calm and determined as before. Nervously, Don's gaze flickers to behind his father then back again. As if hearing his son's thoughts, the wise rat says, "Michelangelo is fine for now, Donatello. Leonardo, what will you have me do?" Leo shoulders seem to straighten at his sensei's question, as if the confidence that the rat has in him gives him strength._

_"Well..." He trails off, casting a glance over at Donny before continuing. "Sensei, I need you to do regular check ups on Mikey's mind. Make sure he's still somewhat stable and not going into another fit of panic." He looks over at Don again before asking, "Is that alright, Donny?"_

_Taken by surprise (or maybe it's just his exhaustion), it takes Donny a moment to get his thoughts together enough to simply say, "Y-Yeah. That sounds good. Keep Mikey's mind stable." Master Splinter nods and turns back to his room, but not before pausing to look back and saying,_

_"You all must rest, my sons; I will take the first watch over Michelangelo. Do not argue," He adds, looking over at Leo who is about do just that. "You cannot help your brother if you yourself are exhausted to the point of being completely helpless." And with that, he turns and walks back to Mikey's room. Leo and Raph sigh and look briefly at each other before both retiring to their rooms. Donny knows that neither of them will actually sleep. Everyone's too tense, too worried to find any rest now._

_He groans and turns to his lab. Here goes nothing._

* * *

That had been about 4 hours ago. A glance at the clock tells Don that it is 2:14 in the morning. He'd honestly figured out what was wrong with Mikey a few days ago, but his concerns about being wrong and giving his brother the wrong medicine had been what stopped him from telling the rest of the family. He suspects that Master Splinter already knows that Don's keeping the knowledge from the others, but he doesn't question, almost as if he knows that Don just wants to be sure that Mikey is safe. He wasn't sure about the illness before.

He's sure now though. He just has to figure out how to tell the others, because there's one vital thing that they desperately need and _don't have_.

"It figures," he mumbles to himself. "The one thing that I need is the one thing I don't have. It also just happens to be the most important." He groans and for what seems like the millionth time that night, curses under his breath and spins in his squeaky office chair. Of _course_ what he needs is the most important. Now how does he tell his brothers? He smiles humorlessly as he imagines what he could say.

_"Hey guys! I figured out what's wrong with Mikey. Yes, Raph, I've FINALLY done it. Mhm. There's just this one little thing that we need and Mike will be as good as new. 'What is it?' you ask. Well, it's nothing big; it's just..._

_"The medicine he needs can only be found in hospitals."_

"Oh that's wonderful, Donatello," He mumbles below his breath. "Just peachy."


End file.
